“It’s been a few years, and I’m still processing all the horrors and trauma I saw when I was working with MSF,” Karen Stewart said. That’s Médecins Sans Frontières, Doctors Without Borders to us in the U.S. But foreign traumas weren’t the only ones she experienced.

She stands there – a 40ish woman, dressed in slim jeans and what looks like her best matching denim top. “I wanted to know who I am,” she says, looking straight at the camera. The “am” sounds pleading. She’s looking to her ancestors to define who she is.

When Lauren Havens was 12 she showed up at the pool to join the junior high boys water polo team in Beverly Hills, CA. It was 1975. Her brother played, but girls didn’t really play water polo. And certainly girls didn’t coach it. That was then.

We all at least hope to get old. And, when this happens, we usually lose some of our mental and physical abilities. This leads friends, relatives, and caretakers to view us in a new light – one that can be disconcerting.

In 1976, Jan was 23, slim, blonde, athletic, a talented pianist, fresh out of Principia College. She’d had a privileged upbringing, she’d even met presidents. To use a phrase popular at the time, the world was her oyster – or should have been.

When we last left Julie, she had just gotten back from a trip to Peru and was vowing to move to South America. First she needed to save money, learn Spanish, get a job there, and figure out what to do with her condo, current job, and belongings.

How many trees are in your favorite park? On your street? What kind are they? Are they healthy? Don’t know? If you live in one of 33 North American cities, probably “Evelyn” does. She travels the country – from inner city parks to luxury neighborhoods – analyzing and cataloging trees.

You don’t have to be single to enjoy going solo. This Ohio wife and mother took off to Paris and went to baking school. It helps that she’s French, of course. Helps that she had an apartment there. But her solo adventure was still hard work. And a labor of love.

They called her “coffee girl.” She was 22, traveling in a bullet-proof car with a small group of much older coffee buyers, all men. They were taken deep into the interior of Colombia at a time when more than 3,500 people a year were kidnapped there.

“Social media make conflicts extremely difficult to deal with. I’m glad I didn’t have Facebook in high school,” Charla Agnoletti said. You’d expect this from someone over 40. But Agnoletti is only 26. It’s because she’s in the thick of it.